


Ashes

by RedRosesArePink



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Twincest, Valonqar Prophecy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 21:44:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13257237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRosesArePink/pseuds/RedRosesArePink
Summary: It's funny how history has a habit of repeating itself.





	Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> Beware: English is not my first language and all mistakes are mine.

It snows the day they kill him. A fine barely visible snow, that doesn't stop the smallfolk from gathering in the streets.

Jaime stands where Ned Stark once stood all those years ago and asks himself if the man saw what he saw. Strangers with glee, anticipation and the slightest hint of fear in their eyes, a mixture you can always spot when blood is supposed to be shed. But unlike him Ned Stark didn't know he was going to die, not if the story Jaime was told is true. What a surprise it must have been when the king suddenly demanded his head.

The king. Westeros had seen too many the past decades, Jaime himself had, and one was madder than the other.

“Slaying a king is one thing” they said, “but slaying a queen is another.” How much they all hated her, how much he hates her himself. She was the maddest of them all, but still they are not glad they got rid of her.

He doesn't even know who decided it was time for him to die — no one is left to claim the Iron Throne and too many all at once — it seems like everyone just knew that it was supposed to happen. Hence, even Jaime knew it the moment he laid eyes on her dead body.

Cersei.

It's funny how history has a habit of repeating itself. When Jaime came back to Kingslanding he was once again greeted by corpses, fear and the promise of wildfire.

“In hundreds of years they will be whispering my name and sing songs about my rule. Our legacy will live on.”

“What happened? I heard rumors about-”

“Lies! They are all liars. This war will be over soon. We have won, don't you see it? The seven kingdoms are all mine. Yours. We will finally rule together.”

She looked nothing like herself when he saw her again after his time on the run. On the run from her, from himself. Her hair was short, her body gaunt and her eyes looked like nothing he had ever seen before. She was old and never had Jaime felt more apart from her as when she laid her hand on his cheek.

Though her sight made him realize how old he's become himself, he suddenly was sixteen again and smelt skin and flesh burning off of human bodies.

He doesn't really know how he came here, everything after is a blur, he is just certain of Ilyn Payne's silent presences while someone reads his sentence. Oh the irony; the faithful Lannister servant, Jaime's companion for the last few months, will bring the last lion to his grave.

There is someone screaming “justice” and the crowd cheers like they loved their former queen. They didn't, no one did, but that doesn't matter as long they see a head on a spike and have another king promising peace and prosperity by the next morning.

They are going to starve, all of them, but they don't care about that either, and Jaime would love to say “You would be dead if it wasn't for me!”. Again they wouldn't care and Jaime does neither if he's honest with himself: He has known for too long that his dream of becoming a hero wouldn't come true.

Kingslayer, kinslayer, queenslayer. _What is worse? Tell me, little brother, do you think me more foul than you? I soon will know._

Jaime thinks about regrets when a hand forces him to his knees. He sees the children, his children, but the only reason why he would tell them about how they were conceived is to see the shook in their little golden faces. They were always her children, Cersei's, and he doesn't regret anything about her, neither about her life nor her death.

He suddenly sees Brienne's awfully big stature in the crowd, and he isn't sure if she's really there. _Did you come to see me die, wench? Will you cry?_ It's a nice thought, though the reminder of another broken oath creeps into his head.

A small smile is on her lips like she wants to tell her farewells and for a moment he is certain, that she is really with him, but then his head is forced down, and she's gone.

Something grazes his exposed neck. He awaits fear but it never comes.

“We will rule over ashes.”

“Why don't you see it?” She had a pleading expression on her face. “Jaime, this is how it's supposed to be.”

And it was, it always has been. This time he didn't use his sword, didn't spill blood upon his white robe and wasn't scared.

It's hard to choke somebody with just one hand, but Cersei didn't struggle. She let it happen, and he was sorry he could only offer her his bad hand, the golden one hanging useless by his side. When it was over she looked relieved, and he felt nothing. He sat on the Iron Throne, again, because it didn't matter, and he waited for them to come.

He hears the sword rather than he feels it and is grateful that Payne knows what he's doing. Then it's over.

His sister awaits him. “Finally”, she says. He feels himself smile and takes her in his arms. He is whole again and realizes he never really has been before.

Five days after his execution another queen comes to Kingslanding and burns the city down nonetheless. History has a funny way of repeating itself and fate to be inevitable.

 


End file.
